Painting all week trying to channel some of the anger and misery into making something, the toughness of single parenting this week, losing my marbles from beig overwhelmed with cooking, cleaning and driving to various classes combined with meltdowns and stubborness while simultaneously thinking about the sgender based discrimination of women in Afghanistan and kicking myself with guilt for moaning when other women have it so much worse. In the end making 3 small paintings, not sure if they’re finished or not, 2 more bigger ones are initially sketched out. I’m not sure if they’re finished or whether I’m satisfied with them, I’m not sure of anything, other than making them brought some form of release and a bit of peace. Today bringing my daughter to the studio as a critic, marvelling at the wisdom that can come from a 9 year old…
“Mummy they all look the same or very similar!”
“I like this one because it has this dark red over here and the light peach colour in the middle”
“I like this one because it has this while blobbly pattern in the middle here”
“I don’t really like this one because the light colour is on the outside, right next to the white one, and the darker ones are in the middle, and I think the lighter colour should be in the middle like in your other ones.”